


Supernatural Drabbles

by timeladyofletters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Imagines, M/M, Requested, Short Stories, Smut, platonic, possible triggers will be noted, romantic, various - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-09-21
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:53:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7873348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeladyofletters/pseuds/timeladyofletters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I haven't had much inspiration lately for my stories, so I started writing short (less than 1000 words each) imagines/drabbles to get the creative juices flowing. I hate that term, it sounds gross. Anyways, this will be an ongoing thing, and I'll still be doing my full fics too. Most of these are requested, so if you have a drabble/imagine idea for me, shoot me a message on my tumblr page - timeladyofletters.tumblr.com/ask</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "If this isn’t real, if its just my mind playing some sick joke, I won’t be able to take it.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean x Reader

It was your third visit to the public library in the past week.

You had been burning through books at a pace ever faster than usual; a desperate attempt to keep yourself focused on other things. It was futile, of course. No matter what you did, your every thought was devoted to mourning _him_.

The man who had gone on a suicide mission to destroy the Darkness, and hadn’t been heard from since.

Being a civilian in a relationship with a hunter, trying to go about your normal life while he was off fighting monsters, had always been difficult. The worst part was the waiting. Waiting to know if he was okay or not. Waiting to know if you would ever see him again.

It was the worst kind of torture - a slow death that you wouldn’t have wished on your worst enemy.

So two weeks after the showdown with Amara, two weeks after no word from him or his brother, you were trying to get your life back together. You immersed yourself in books, trying not to have yet another breakdown. The library became your haven, and you spent as much time as you could there. As you browsed through an aisle of older books at the back of the library, you sensed someone hovering nearby. Ignoring the person, you ran your fingers along the spines of the books before you until you found a mystery novel that piqued your interest. As you flipped through the pages, you noticed in your peripheral vision that the stranger had gotten closer. The hairs at the back of your neck stood to attention, and your brain refused to understand what you were reading, but you forced the feelings down. 

“Ten bucks says the butler did it.”

Your heart slammed in your chest at the sound of that voice, and your vision blurred. The rest of your body became absolutely still. He came up closer behind you, and though he wasn’t touching you, you instantly felt the warmth radiating from him.

That’s when the tears came back in full force, wracking your body with quiet sobs. He placed his hands on your shoulders, and you gripped the book to your chest and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Y/N, look at me,” he pleaded. “Please.” He gently turned you to face him, but your eyes remained sealed.

You shook your head back and forth. “I can’t.”

“Why?” he asked, his gruff voice breaking.

“Because if this isn’t real, if its just my mind playing some sick joke, I won’t be able to take it.”

He cupped your face in his hands and stroked the tears away from beneath your lashes with his thumbs. “I’m here, Y/N,” he said softly. “I promise you, I’m right here.”

Slowly, cautiously, you opened your eyes. Seeing Dean before you, real and alive, stole your breath. You hesitantly ran a hand down his face, and he leaned into your touch; closing his eyes and letting out a relieved sigh.

When his eyes met yours again, you stepped into his waiting arms, and held him as close as you could. “You’re here.”


	2. “You've got to be kidding me!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley x Reader

“Excuse me Y/N, I must have misunderstood. It almost sounded like you just sided with that tie-wearing cherub over me.”

Crowley’s voice had been grating on your nerves lately, and it had nothing to do with it’s gravely tone.

You rolled your eyes for what felt like the millionth time, and blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m not siding with anyone,” you said calmly. “I just think Cas made a good point. Your plan is brash and risky. At least with Cas, we’ll stand a chance. And you wear a tie too, so that insult really doesn’t do much damage.”

Crowley slouched forward in his throne and glared at you. “Mine is better,” he grumbled like a 5 year old.

“Your plan or your tie?”

“Both!”

“Look Crowley, we’re in a lot of trouble right now, and its about to get worse,” you argued. “Do you honestly think we can beat this without anyone else in our corner? Cas is offering to help us out of the goodness of his heart and-”

“The goodness of his heart?” Crowley exclaimed, standing up quickly and jabbing a finger in your direction. “You've got to be kidding me! Did you hear the ridiculous words that just came out of your mouth?” Your crossed your arms and tapped your foot, waiting for his speech to be over. “Everyone has ulterior motives, everyone. Especially angels. And mark my words Y/N, I will find out what his are.”

You simply sighed in response and said, “You’re being a little melodramatic, don’t you think?”

Crowley poured himself yet another glass of scotch, and swirled it around before taking a sip. “Darling, I’m just getting started.”


	3. "You make me feel safe."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam x Reader

It was just past midnight, and Sam’s side of the bed was cold and empty. Again. He had been avoiding you lately, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. You knew he felt guilty for what happened on that last hunt. The werewolf was going for him, and you jumped in the way. You gut hurt. Not severely, but still enough for Sam to blame himself.

And boy, did that man know how to wallow in self-pity.

You let out a frustrated breath and tried to roll out of the bed, but your muscles and bones throbbed in protest. After three attempts, you gave up, and grabbed your phone to call Sam to bed. You knew he was only a few steps away, in the bunker’s library, but you didn’t have the energy to physically go to him. Before you could dial his number, there was the unmistakable crack and crash of lightening and thunder, followed closely by the assault of heavy rain above you.

Your eyes went wide in fear, and you huddled under the covers, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your hands to your ears in preparation for the next deafening boom. Seconds later, the mattress dipped beside you, and you were wrapped in strong arms before you could even pry your eyes open.

”You’re alright, Y/N. The storm will be over soon,” Sam murmured softly, fully aware of your fear.

He held you carefully, delicately. He didn’t want to hurt you any further. Sam ran his fingers down your arm, and froze at a purple bruise right above your elbow.

“I’m sorry I let this happen to you.” He traced the unmarked skin around the injury, unable to meet your eyes.

“Hey,” you said, pulling his chin up, forcing him to look at you. “This isn’t your fault, Sam. I chose to get in the way in order to protect you. And I’d make the same choice over and over again.”

Sam shook his head slowly, the stray tendrils of his hair tickled your face. The two of you just lay there for a while, with no other sound but the pelting rain and occasional rumble.“Well I’m still sorry.” Sam’s voice was heavy with remorse. “And I’m sorry for being distant lately. I guess I let the guilt get the better of me.” He pulled you closer and tucked your head under his chin, just as there was another crash outside. 

You nuzzled deeper into his embrace, allowing his large body to engulf you almost completely. “It’s okay Sam, you’re a Winchester. It’s to be expected. And besides, you’re here now.”

When Sam let out a sigh, you knew he didn’t believe you. “I just wish I could do more.”

“You’re doing it Sam,” you told him sincerely. “You make me feel safe.”

Sam pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could feel his lips curve up into a smile. “You make me feel safe too, Y/N.”


	4. “I’ll go easy on you, sweetheart.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean x Reader

You and Dean stood toe to toe, chest to chest; shallow breaths mingling together in the sliver of space between you. Dean carefully took hold of your hips in order to position you as he deemed fit. His rough fingers grazed your exposed skin, and sweat had already begun to glisten on his chest, even though you two had barely begun.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked quietly, lips merely an inch away from your ear.

Your heart stuttered. “I’m ready. I’m sure.”

“I’ll go easy on you sweetheart,” he promised. “Don’t worry.”

“No, don’t,” you insisted, meeting his gaze. “I can take it, Dean. Just give me all you’ve got.”

Dean furrowed his brow as he surveyed you, weighing the pros and cons of your request until he finally relented. “If that’s what you want. Just tell me if it gets to be too much okay? We’ll stop whenever you say so.”

You let out a breathy “Okay”, as Dean brushed the stray hairs from your face and tucked them behind your ear. Then his sweet expression melted away, only to be replaced by a cocky smirk.

You took that as your cue.

In a flash, Dean’s fist came at you, and you sidestepped quickly enough to avoid it. You grabbed the attacking arm, and twisted it behind his back, but Dean spun out of your grasp. The next few minutes was a flurry of punches and jabs; fancy moves that you both learned from the Martial Arts class you had recently snuck into together. Neither of you used enough force to really injure the other, but you knew you’d both be stiff and sore the next morning.

You and Dean continued to move around each other, the both of you slowing down as time went on. Before Dean could get out of your reach, you gave him a roundhouse kick to his side. He let out a grunt, and stumbled backwards with a proud smile forming on his face.

"Is this really all you’ve got?” you taunted lightly, bouncing from one foot to the other, high on an adrenaline rush.

Dean grinned and shook his head, fighting off a laugh. “Shut up, I’m rusty.”

“Sure if that’s what you want to call it,” you teased.

Dean’s face darkened again, and before you could react, he dove at you, hauling you to the ground and pinning you beneath him. “Fancy Martial Arts moves are great, but you can’t beat the techniques of a good ol' fashioned brawl,” he said as you squirmed in place. After a minute of not being able to move, you stopped to give him an exaggerated pout.

“Ready to give up yet?” Dean asked, loosening his grip and taking most of his weight off of you. At that, you used all the strength you could muster to flip him off and over, in a move straight out of _The Lion King_. Once he had landed on his back, you straddled his waist, pinned his arms to the floor and leaned in nice and close. Close enough to see the surprise and mischief dancing in his green eyes.

“Not by a long shot.”


End file.
